Azrael
by liondancer17
Summary: On a trip to a German cathedral to write a report, Dmitri Arvloskya stumbles across a sleeping girl, wakes her up, and is suddenly caught in the legend that surrounds the mysterious cursed girl he brought back. Nyotalia BelaMerica
1. Chapter 1

A/N

I'm in a fairy tale mood…I've never seen Snow White and the Huntsman, but this idea is itching in my head, so let's get started!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.

XXXxxx(Dmitri's POV)XxxxXXX

Sometimes, Dmitri Arvloskya wondered why he bothered with school.

It wasn't as if his future career he planned had anything to do with school…mind you, he was not an idiot who thought that joining a band would make him famous and rich, nor did he believe he was an actor. (Not that things such as 'talent' or 'work' mattered anymore…it was all about looks. And judging by the number of women who asked him out over the years, he definitely had enough of those. Not that it mattered…he loved his sister.)

But still, he wanted to be a writer. He was always interested in books, especially books on interesting things, such as the occult. He enjoyed studying history, urban legends, and just anything that could prove to be interesting. He never shared his secret love of books with anyone, even his precious older sister. She wouldn't like him if she knew he was nerdy….she would want a real man, right? So he didn't say anything. He wanted to write his own stories, create his own world, even. What was the use of going to school, if what he wanted to do was outside it?

Dmitri wasn't an idiot, either, though. He wasn't going to drop out, like some idiots in his school. _Nyet_…he was going to finish college, even if it meant doing things as tedious as this assignment.

The assignment, of course, was on legends surrounding castles in European history. They could be anything from castles of royals to cathedrals, so Dmitri picked a cathedral in Germany. He always loved the gothic architecture; it matched his love of the occult. So here he was, standing in front of a cathedral, his arms overflowing with books, and an irritated look on his pale, pointed features. Finally pushing his irritation aside, he pushed open the door, barely managing to keep the pile of books from spilling into the grand, ancient hall. Setting his messenger bag aside, he picked up his five-star notebook (covered in stickers proclaiming his Russian pride, even if he was technically Belarusian.) and he began to walk into the ancient halls. His indigo eyes grew wide at the sight.

The hall was enormous, towering hundreds of feet above his head. The ceiling seemed to melt into the sky itself, and he could make out paintings that competed with the Sistine chapel. Stained glass windows watched him from between spiraling columns; every disciple of God Incarnate was in the beautiful windows, from Peter to Paul, and even Judah. The cathedral was gorgeous shades of ivory and gold, statues of angels lined each row of velvet chairs. Dmitri couldn't even bring himself to write in the notebook he brought, all he could do was marvel at the beauty.

Sometimes, the Western World still managed to take his breath away. But it would never take his love from Russia.

Dmitri slowly ran his hands along the seats of the church, until; at last, he reached the altar. He wondered what is like thousands of years ago, when God ruled every aspect of life. He could almost hear the Latin prayers the preacher would have said, and the beautiful choir that surely stood behind him. This was the land of the Holy Roman Empire; it was almost spellbinding to think that he could be standing on such sacred ground. Walking to the altar, he ran his hand down the golden cross that stood watchful over the cathedral. Wasn't it strange, that he was the only one to pick this place? That this place was so perfectly preserved?

Something snapped from the gold to him. Dmitri jerked his hand back, rubbing at his fingertips to eliminate that strange numb feeling. His fingers tingled from what felt like electricity….faulty wiring, maybe? But why would a church wire a freaking cross? It's not like the damn thing glowed!

Recovering from that bit of weirdness (it wasn't every day a church shocked you) he turned back to the main hall. It was then that he noticed something he hadn't noticed before: a door. Walking back down the center aisle, he turned a corner, and he saw that it was blocked off by a velvet rope. He placed a pale hand on the rope, and considered going past it. What was he, sixteen? The door was probably blocked off for a reason, such as brittle stairs, or bad structure.

But still…

Dmitri still wanted to know what the cross thing was about. God usually doesn't make a point of electrifying symbols of peace and love.

The Belarusian undid the rope, and he threw himself against the door. It was much heavier than he expected, he had to brace his boots against the frame of the door, and lean all of his muscles against it in order to get it to move. It was a very strenuous process, taking several minutes of rather embarrassing grunting to get it to open wide enough for Dmitri to be able to slip his slender frame through. Once he got through, he planted his hand against the wall, and caught his breath. Yes, he was definitely never, ever going to tell that to Anya. She did _not_ need to know how weak he was…then again; maybe the image of him all sweaty and panty would convince her…

'_Nyet! Definitely not!_' he snapped at himself. Anya was not that kind of girl, she was quiet and reserved and sweet and kind and beautiful! She was perfect!

Finally tearing his attention away from his sister, Dmitri instead focused his gaze on where he was. A long, spiraling staircase towered above him, structured beautifully, though it did look rather old and brittle. Each stair was cushioned individually by leather, and there was a single window, a cross, that let light dance into the room. Dmitri took a hold of the beautiful, mahogany handrail, and he began his ascent. Occasionally, a stair would creak, which alarmed him, but otherwise, it was fine. When he finally reached the top, he was met with a long, winding hall, with several doors. This part of the cathedral was very plain, with no decorations whatsoever, and only thin slots that allowed the light inside. He wondered if this was where the monks spent their time writing the bible.

Dmitri walked down the hall, stopping only to peer into the occasional room. It seemed his hypothesis was right, several seemed to be like offices, with only a table and a bare bookshelf left. After the third room like this, he decided that he was being foolish: the church had most likely long cleared out anything he could study. So instead, he walked to the double doors at the end of the hall. As with the first door, these were very heavy, and it took him several minutes to open it, several minutes in which he wondered what exactly he was hoping to accomplish by exploring an old church.

Once again, he was met with a choice. Deciding to do the logical thing, Dmitri took the first door and decided that once he was done exploring, he would return to the hall. That door led to more choices. He picked another one, which led to a staircase, which led to a long hall with double doors at the end, resembling the first hall.

By this point, Dmitri was cursing himself for not bringing his notebook. He needed to remember exactly where he came in from; otherwise he would be cursed to wander a stupid old German church for God knows how long…

Dmitri finally got through the end double doors, and he noted that these seemed to be more….decorated than the others. He recognized Latin on the door, though he couldn't read it. Perhaps this was a library of some sort….

He pushed aside the doors, and peeked inside. When he did, his breath caught in his throat.

A girl lay asleep on what appeared to be a large, glass coffin. Gold formed the bottom, and it was the most lavishly decorated bottom he had ever seen. Jewels covered every inch, so much so, that he could hardly see the gold. He slowly approached it, unable to breath, his pulse hot and fast.

The girl….she had to be a doll. She was dressed in a luxurious gown, one straight out of a fairy tale. Her eyes were shut delicately; he could make out every golden eyelash. Her face was tilted back, and her lips were parted slightly, as if awaiting a kiss. Her skin was white, with light pink dusting her cheeks. Her hair fell in short waves around her head, and it gleamed in the low light. Her hands were clasped over her chest, holding onto a bouquet of roses. Dmitri could feel blood rising to his cheeks, though he couldn't figure out why. This was a doll, right?

Dust coated the glass case, so he quietly, gingerly moved it, almost afraid to disturb this beautiful, sleeping girl. It was stupid, but he still did it anyway.

Up close, she looked like a real princess. Someone was either insane or really skilled to craft a doll this detailed…

Dmitri took a hold of her hand, surprised at its warmth and flexibility. It was just like a real human's hand…but, how was that possible? She looked to have been displayed like someone at a wake, but judging at how much dust coated the case…It would have been years. And she was still warm and flexible, without the rigor mortis that set in…nothing made sense.

Dmitri set her hand down, now thoroughly confused. He noticed that slight particles of dust were beginning to settle on her long eyelashes. He brushed a hand over them, and was surprised when he saw her chest rise and fall. She was sleeping…like a fairy tale princess.

No. There was _no way_ he was going to wake her up like that. He was going to put the case back on her, and call the police. No. Way.

Dmitri took another look at the girl. She looked so vulnerable, so innocent. She couldn't have been any older than he was, and he wondered once more how she got here. It couldn't have been her doing, after all, who wants to sleep in a glass coffin for years?

Slowly, the Belarusian leaned over the girl, looking down onto her closed eyes. He couldn't resist the urge to place a hand on her warm cheek, and he felt the soft, silken skin under it. He lowered his lips to hers, and brushed lightly against them.

In one moment, he was face-to-face with the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

XXXxxxXXXxxxXXX

A/N Please review~!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N

^-^ Thank you all for the lovely reviews! ^-^ I hope you guys like this chapter too! Just so you guys know, this story does include some elements of my favourite faerie tale, Snow White, as well as my own original ideas. I hope you guys enjoy! ^o^

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the words above and below.

XXXxxxX(Dmitri's POV)XxxxXXX

For a moment, he was spellbound. The girl's eyes were intense, like the sky was trapped behind her intense gaze. He could not see his reflection in her gaze, all he saw was...her. He felt as if he could see her heart in those eyes, and...he just didn't want to look away. He wasn't aware that she was staring back into his own eyes, all he could see was Her.

"U-um...who are you?" she suddenly asked. Dmitri blinked, realizing that he had literally been _staring in this girl's eyes. _He jumped back, stumbling over the coffin, and crashing into the stone floor. The girl shot up, grabbing the soft velvet cushion she had been laying on for god-knows how long, and pushing the bouquet of roses she had been holding next to Dmitri. The belarusian felt a scarlet blush bloom over his cheeks, and he quickly stood back up, grabbing the bouquet as he did so.

"Dmitri Arvlosky." he said quickly, fighting down the blush that still insisted on clinging to his face. He cleared his throat, and tossed the roses back at the girl. She caught them, and immediately turned bright red.

"R-roses? You're giving me roses?!" she squeaked, her face turning as red as Dmitri's. "B-but I don't even know you! I-I can't love you if I don't even know you!"

"Who said anything about love?" Dmitri snapped back. "You dropped them, I'm just giving them back! And who are you, anyway? What are you doing here? How the hell are you still alive?" Dmitri demanded. The girl gave him an irritated look, clinging the roses to her chest and smiling at him, resembling the Cheshire Cat in how...mischievous it was.

Sometimes, Dmitri wondered why he liked girls.

"Why, that's no way to speak to a lady." She replied, turning her face away and folding her arms over her chest. "Now you must beg."

"Hell no!" he snapped back at the girl, who was really starting to piss him off. He watched as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, smiling.

"You kissed me, a sleeping girl with no idea who you are, or what you were going to do to me. I was asleep, I could have been in danger from you. I think I'll tell everyone how I was touched in my sleep by a Dmitri Arvlosky." she replied, looking thoughtfully in the distance. Dmitri turned bright red, his mouth opening and closing, closely resembling a fish. The girl smiled cheerfully at him.

Well played, princess.

"I-I didn't touch you at all! I just woke you up!" he stuttered, his face going crimson. She laughed, covering her smile with a small, gloved hand.

"I know, sir. I know. My name..." she spaced out, her eyes going blank. She tilted her face up as she thought, and Dmitri looked at her curiously. Did she not remember? What had happened to this girl...?

"Amelia. My name is Amelia." she finally said. Grasping the roses to her chest, she stood up. "And...I don't really remember anything else...sorry..." Amelia added, looking down at her shoes. Dmitri crossed his arms, and looked away from her.

"...I don't care. Let's just get out of...wherever the hell this is." he replied shortly, turning to leave. Amelia stumbled after him.

"Okay~!" she replied cheerfully. "Um, where are we going?" she added.

"First to my house, then to the police. Then maybe to the psychologist, so I can discuss my illusion of finding freaking Snow White in a German cathedral...would you miss that coffin-thing if I took it apart?"

"Yes! And...uh...what's a police...and a psychiatrist?"

* * *

It was only when he led both of them into the main cathedral, that Dmitri really noticed what Amelia was wearing, and just how out of place she was. She was wearing a long, beautiful gown, ivory in colour, that flared out gently at her waist, and ended in a lace pattern at her feet. She had long, elegant, lacy gloves, and the dress dipped down in her collar, with a v-neck that was lined with the same lace. It looked rather like a bridal gown, save for the fact that she wasn't wearing a veil. He almost wished she was, she was already beautiful as it is, and girls were supposed to look like angels at their wedding.

Dmitri's face flushed again, and he quickly covered his blush with his hands. What the hell was he thinking?

"Would you please stop staring at me." Amelia asked casually, throwing another Cheshire Cat grin at Dmitri. "I mean, I know I'm gorgeous, but it's getting rather creepy."

"I'm not staring at you!" Dmitri snapped at her, the blush fading from his cheeks. "And you're not nearly as pretty as you would need to be for me! For one thing, most people don't wear a dress like that out in public."

"This?" Amelia asked, tilting her head innocently, and picking at the lacy fabric with her fingers. "Why not? I think it's pretty."

"Well yeah, you look beautiful in it, but it's not exactly the fashion...we have to get you some regular clothes before I take you home." Dmitri replied. He noticed that Amelia seemed to blush slightly, but he didn't know why. He took her hand, in case the idiot wandered off, and he led her out of the cathedral, grabbing his bag as he went. Her hand was small and soft, fitting perfectly in his. He noticed that her fingers curled around his hand, softly and hesitantly, and he didn't see her blushing and looking away.

Dmitri walked out, into the glaring sunlight of the square he heard Amelia gasp behind him, and he turned back to look at her. Her eyes were wide as she took in the town, and he felt a slight smile tug at his lips. She really was adorable.

Then Dmitri realized that he had just called this girl that wasn't his sister adorable, and he quickly shoved that thought out of his head, and he turned back away from her, his jaw set in irritation at himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could he betray Anya like that? He squeezed Amelia's hand tighter, and pulled her through the town, until he reached a cheap store he knew sold clothes. He pulled her inside, pulling out his wallet.

"Go grab something." he told her, without looking at her. "I'll pay for it. Then we're going back to the hotel I'm staying at, and I'll call the police." he said simply. Dmitri heard Amelia make a soft sound of comprehension, and he watched her disappear into the aisles of the Dollar Store.  
Dmitri stood against the wall, shutting his eyes, and rubbing his forehead.

This was the only day he was going to take care of this girl. He didn't want to take care of him anymore, after all, she was just some annoying girl.

_But..._

No, there was no but. He was doing the right thing, after all. She had amnesia, and she really had no place to stay. He had to give her to the authorities, it was just the right thing to do.

_But...__she was so innocent...she at least needed to be taken care of, before she was taken away._

No, it was the right thing to do...it wasn't betraying Anya, he was going to take care of this girl, not love her. He loved Anya, no one would ever change that, especially some strange, annoying girl.

"Hey, Dmitri! Look at this~!" Amelia chimed, as she danced out of the aisles. In her hands, she held a small, flowing mini-skirt, and a button-up shirt. She also carried what looked like...what was that...? A g-string...?

Dmitri covered his face to hide his blush, looking away. Dear lord, she was going to kill him.

"W-whatever...let's just go..." he stuttered, standing up quickly, causing the blood to rush from his head, and he stumbled dizzily for a moment. Amelia followed, confused. Dmitri threw the euros at the cashier, who took it, confused, and bagged the clothes. Dmitri grabbed her hand again, leading her to a public restroom, and waiting for her to change. When she came out, he quickly covered his face, blushing even harder than before, and he spun around.

"Um...what's wrong? Is it bad?" Amelia asked. Dmitri peeked back at her, still blushing, and he shook his head. Amelia had tied up her white, button-up shirt around her chest. She was wearing the small, jean short-shorts, which barely covered her butt. Dmitri looked back up into her sunny, curious gaze.

"_N-nyet..._there is nothing wrong...just...are you sure you want to wear your shirt all tied up like that?" he asked. Amelia nodded, smiling innocently.

"Of course! I mean, I don't have a bra or anything, so I need a bit of support for my breasts." she replied. Dmitri turned even redder. God, was she really that innocent? She was so stupid! He shook his head, finally fighting back his blush.

"I-I don't care! Don't say that! Just shut up!" he snapped. Amelia drew back a little, looking rather hurt. She frowned and glared at him.

"Oh, you know that you like my breasts." she argued back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I saw you staring at me earlier!"

"Why would I stare at _you_? There are a million girls out there hotter than you! God, stop being so egotistical!" he growled, turning around and walking away. He heard her follow him, and she walked behind him, not saying a word.

He reached a hand behind him, and he felt her hand slip in his, her fingers curling around his hand.

N-no, it wasn't because he felt bad for insulting her, it's just because he didn't want the idiot to get lost!

* * *

_"And so, the LORD cast his face from the once divine guardian of eternity, and damned her to a judgement fit for the corrupt. The betrayer would await in the lake of fire and brimstone in sleep. Should she awaken, she would surely die, arm in arm with the one who turned his eyes from the LORD, and awoke the hell-bound angel, and deserved the punishment of God."_

__-Passage from the Bible, describing the curse of the fallen angel, Azrael.

* * *

A/N Please review! ^-^ I'll update soon!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N

I'm back guys~! I hope you guys like this chapter! I'm hoping that you guys won't hate me for not updating S.I.N. X3.

Anyway, let's continue! Here comes the plot! /(^o^)/

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

The thing about Amelia that both irritated and amused Dmitri was just how...innocent she was. Her eyes would take in everything with a glowing wonder, and he would feel her petite hand squeezing his tighter as she gazed around in awe. Sometimes, a little gasp would escape her petal pink lips as she saw something that particularly struck her, and Dmitri couldn't help but smile at her-

_Nope. _He wasn't about to say cuteness. Not. At. All.

It was so strange how everything had her in awe. A particular incident that amused him was when Dmitri decided to go with Amelia on the subway to get to the hotel he was staying at, during his time in Germany. As soon as they stepped on the underground train, Amelia's eyes lit up at the simple amount of people. Dmitri couldn't help but smile to himself at her wide, sky-coloured eyes, and he gently led her to the back of the bus. They took a seat beside a man with brilliant emerald eyes and a nest of sunny blonde hair. Amelia sat beside him, and she smiled at him.

"Those are the biggest eyebrows I have ever seen~!" She commented cheerfully. Dmitri choked, unsure whether to laugh at how stupid she was, or to jump in front of her to save her from Eyebrows. Eyebrows looked up at her, and blinked. He closed the book, and frowned at her, crossing his arms. Dmitri briefly wondered if he was mad that Amelia spoke to him in English instead of German, but Eyebrows surprised him by replying in English.

"Well, that is the most irritating American accent _I_ have ever heard." Eyebrows replied. His voice was clipped, and he had a thick British accent, it sounded like a London one. Just from the way he held himself, Dmitri got the impression that he had an aristocratic upbringing, he sat up straight, his shoulders squared, and he had his chin slightly tilted upward, as if he was royalty. One thing was out of place, though. He had pierced ears. A punk phase, perhaps?

Amelia giggled at Eyebrows, and she leaned closer, putting a hand on his hand. Something went off in Dmitri's head, and he immediately decided that he really didn't like Eyebrows, and he really wanted to get Amelia back to his apartment, away from this guy.

He wasn't even that good looking, honestly.

Eyebrows raised one of the caterpillars glued to his head, and he flashed a smile at Amelia. Another stab of anger hit Dmitri.

"My name is Amelia, you can call me Amy." she chimed. Eyebrows put the book away, and he held out a hand, shaking Amelia's. Dmitri had the strong urge to snatch her hand away and hurl the Brit through the subway window, preferably on the rail that fried anyone who touched it.

"I am Arthur, Amy. Arthur Kirkland." he replied, giving her another gentleman's smile. Amelia smiled back, and the Brit placed his hand over hers, her tiny, petite hand disappearing under his. With his other hand, the Brit handed her a slip of paper.

The subway jerked to a stop, and Dmitri stood up. He heard Amelia stand up with him, and he walked out quickly, hearing her following him. The second they got off the subway, he rounded on her.

"What were you doing?" he demanded angrily. Amelia flinched a little, taking a step back. Then she pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes.

"I was talking to him! He was being nice!" she snapped back. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes! I do! He could have tried to hurt you, Amelia! He could have touched you and tried to kidnap you! You don't get that intimate with strangers, you could have been hurt!" he yelled back. "I don't want you to get hurt!" As the words left his mouth, Dmitri found that he was surprised at this. Usually, he wouldn't give two shits about some girl, but...

"I'm not stupid! I know how bad people can be! I'm not a little girl, I don't need to be protected, asshole! I'm not your girl! So stop being so possessive!" she barked at him. Dmitri pressed his lips together, glaring at her.

"I know, I know. But still...I...whatever. Let's go." he finished, turning around and walking away. He heard her following slowly, obviously still upset. He stopped walking, still not looking at her.

"Can I call you Amy?" he asked.

"Whatever you want to do." she muttered. Dmitri fell silent in reply.

"He wasn't even that good looking." Dmitri replied. Her heard her chiming laugh, and he smiled a little.

What the hell was wrong with him?

* * *

It took them both a little while to get to his hotel room, partly because they were walking slowly, but mostly because Dmitri didn't wait until his subway stop to get off. It wasn't because he was jealous of Eyebrows, of course. It was because he needed the exercise.

The room was very small, one bed, one bathroom, and a TV, dress, and work desk. Immediately, Dmitri froze as he stared at the bed.

"I'll take the floor, you can have the bed." he said quickly to her. Amelia blinked and tilted her head, confused.

"Can't we sleep together?" she asked him. Dmitri choked once more, and covered his face, a huge blush blooming over his cheeks. He quickly shook his head.

"_N-Nyet! _No way!" he snapped. Amelia looked almost sad, and her blue eyes bored into his, and he swore she was doing this on purpose.

"Why not? Don't you like me?" she asked. Dmitri's brain shut down. He wasn't sure whether he should say yes, and possibly give her the wrong idea, or say no, and make her sad.

"Y-you're my...er...friend! Friends don't sleep together!" he babbled, trying hard to keep from looking in her pleading eyes. He backed up, and tried not to think how ridiculous the whole situation was.

"Why? I mean, I can understand if there were two beds...but there isn't. So let's sleep together!" she declared. Another blush burned his cheeks.

"S-stop saying that!" he stuttered at her.

"Why?" Amelia asked, tilting her head innocently. "It's what I want to do, sleep with you."

"That means sex! I'm not going to have sex with you!" he blurted out. She blinked, then her face went scarlet.

"Y-you pervert! That's not what I meant! Why would I want to sleep with you, I just met you!" she snapped. Dmitri blushed brighter, and folded his arms, trying to keep the stutter out of his voice.

"I know, I don't like you like that either! I-I'm just saying, 'sleep together' is slang for sex! B-be careful what you say!" he replied quickly. Amelia huffed, and spun around.

"Is there anything to do in here?" she asked. Dmitri grabbed the work desk chair, and he sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the back.

"Do you speak German?" he asked. Amelia shrugged.

"I don't think so. Maybe." she replied. Dmitri blinked, once again reminded that she knew nothing of herself.

"Don't you remember anything at all? Your family? Anything?" he asked her. Amelia sat on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest, almost in the same position that he found her in.

"No...nothing but my name. There...there's some things...like I know how to talk and walk...but...there's not much else. I know...something...there's a memory itching at my mind..." she replied. For once, her voice was soft, and her eyes were distant.

"Tell it to me." he replied simply. She rolled on her side and looked in Dmitri's eyes, but her own gaze was distant, fixed on something past Dmitri.

"There's...light. A lot of light...and...a voice. I remember a beautiful man...and a lot of fire. And...feathers. Wings of something...and...there's this voice, a strong voice...and it's saying something I can't understand..." she said finally. Dmitri looked down at the floor, and silence fell between them for a moment.

"Oh well, I have you now, who needs the past?" Amelia suddenly said, smiling cheerfully at Dmitri. He gave a weak smile back, and she grabbed the TV remote.

"You know, there's a reason I asked you if you speak German. Everything on the TV is German." he told her. Amelia shrugged, and smiled at him.

"Oh you know me, I just like the pictures." she chimed, winking at him. Dmitri snorted.

"Honestly, I wouldn't doubt it." he replied. She got up, and playfully punched his side.

"You're an asshole, do you know that?" she asked. Dmitri smirked.

"I've been told." he replied. She giggled.

"So what about you?" she asked him.

"What about me?" he asked in reply. She shrugged.

"You know, you're family. Tell me about them." she said. She rolled back onto her back, looking up at the ceiling.

"I have a beautiful older sister that I love with all my heart, and an older brother. My parents died when I was little. I was adopted into a Belarusian family, and raised there. When my brother turned eighteen, he found my sister and I, and we moved to America. My older brother took care of me like I was his son...but I love my sister." he replied. For some reason, he didn't want to tell Amelia about how deep his love for his sister went. Usually, he would go on and on about her, but now...

It must be because he was tired.

"That sounds nice." Amelia replied, a small smile touching her lips. She rolled over and looked at him again. "Say something in Belarusian, I love the accent you have."

"What do you want me to say?" Dmitri asked. He was used to the question. In America, everyone wanted him to say something in his native tongue.

"Anything." she replied. He smiled at her.

"_Ty idyjet ." _he replied. Amelia's eyes lit up.

"What does that mean?" she asked excitedly. Dmitri chuckled.

"You're an idiot." he replied. Amelia's excited smile fell into a pout, and she rolled away from him. Laughter bubbled up from the Belarusian's chest, he couldn't help himself. He honestly didn't think anyone but his parents had ever heard him laugh.

"Well yeah? You're an ass!" she snapped, but he could hear the laughter perched at the edge of her voice. Dmitri instead gave a small smile, and he got up, taking off his coat and hanging it in the closet.

"What time is it?" he asked her.

"Almost midnight." she replied. Dmitri was rather surprised at how late it was. He grabbed a new set of clothes from his suitcase, and walked into the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm taking a shower." he called back from the bathroom.

"Oh, okay. Do you want me to join?" she asked. Dmitri froze, his face going scarlet.

"N-no! What the hell?!" he barked at her. "You stay in there, dammit! Go to sleep, I'll be out in a while! Don't look at me!" he snapped, trying hard to keep his voice normal.

"Okay, whatever. You're weird. Goodnight."

* * *

A/N No, Amy is being innocent. In ancient times, people would often bathe together, with no regards to their nudity.

I hope you guys like this one! Any guesses as to what Arthur is doing here?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N

Oh my god, you guys must either love or hate me by now. The reason this is updating so fast is because I've had this story in my head forever, except normal rather than a nyotalia version. X3 Oh well, I think the nyotalia version is cuter. I love Tsuntsun(dere) Bela, and awkward boys, so this is perfect~!

And thank you to all who guessed Iggy's role in the story, and just all the reviews! \(^o^)/ *hugs to all* I think this is becoming one of my favourite stories…as evidenced by my nonstop updating. The flying mint plot bunnies won't leave me alone, I'm sorry! Unfortunately to all you fluff-lovers, If you've ever read any of my previous stories, you know how cruel I am to my favourite characters. But don't fret yet, my darlings. I'll let the fluff continue for a while, before I do evil things.

God, I sounded really creepy/perverted there.

ANYWAY, let's continue.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia…and anything else you recognize. XD

* * *

"_Astaroth_." a voice whispered, barely audible, though the strength behind it radiated through the darkness. The voice was soft, and was almost tangible in the way it rolled over the listeners, warm like liquid gold, and sweet as honey. It was like an angel's voice, it melted the souls of mortals, men and women alike.

"Yes?" was the equally hushed reply. Though this voice was not nearly as rich and enticing, it was lovely in its own way. This voice was friendly and warm, as if the listener was meeting a forgotten old friend. This voice purred promises of an easy life and rich rewards, of a life engorged in sloth, gluttony, and lust. The speaker was equally as charming as his voice, a handsome, scholarly young man, the bookish type, though not at all nerdy. He looked like someone you would see on a collage campus, not at all like the Crown Prince of Hell.

The first speaker stood up, his bejeweled robes almost giving off a radiance of their own. The Morning Star smiled at the Prince, a smile that swayed the hearts of angels. His spectacular wings had once spanned eternity, his thousand hands had once cupped the universe itself. Morning Star stood before the Prince, and knelt to his eye level. Two intense orbs bored into two glowing eyes, a locked gaze that penetrated the Prince's very soul. Mortals usually wondered how angels could turn against their very creator, the Almighty who had given them life, had held them in his countless arms.

Mortals...they have never looked into these eyes. If they had seen this burning gaze, listened to his rich voice, they would understand.

A shiver ran through Astaroth's body, though he was not sure what it was born of. Fear, perhaps. Maybe love. Or both.

"It has begun." Morning Star said simply. He smiled wider, his intense gaze shutting behind his long lashes. "And you know what to do, my precious Prince. Save her from the pesky birds they send to kill her, and then bring her to me." As he spoke those last words, the fallen angel stood up, sweeping his arms across the grande hall around them. The other fallen ones trailed into the hall, their rich robes gleaming as brightly as Morning Star's. The hall was filled with the false light the demons cast, it was blinding to mortal eyes. Stained glass windows depicting the glorious original fallen watched the hall of demons. The room itself was like a ballroom, wide and grandeur, worthy of the demon royalty that stood in within its marble halls.

"Prepare a room worthy of Death herself, she will be one of us soon." Morning Star said, his golden voice washing over the fallen.

"And if she refuses?" The Prince asked. Another soft smile was given to him, as well a soft order that was given to the Prince, only the Prince.

"Than the prophecy comes true. An eternity of fire and brimstone awaits her."

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

The Belarusian felt his mind slowly stir, though he didn't open his eyes. He was tired, drowning in exhaustion. It was like a story he had once heard, about the princesses who danced until holes were worn in their shoes. Save for the fact that Dmitri was most certainly not a girl, nor a member of royalty.

Still, he felt as exhausted as those girls probably did.

Slowly, the Belarusian became aware of something soft and warm against him. He felt its warmth around his waist, and a soft, perfumed something brushing gently against his against his face, tucked under his chin. The smell was nice, like brown sugar and vanilla, and something that reminded him of sunshine. He nuzzled his lips and nose against whatever it was, and tightened his arms around the soft, warm body.

What was it...a cat, maybe? He knew Aleksandr always had a soft spot for animals, and he always left a bowl of milk in front of the cat door for any stray that might wander in, in need of food. Maybe Aleksandr finally decided to take one in, and it had decided to crawl in Dmitri's bed. Unfortunately, his groggy brain didn't register that whatever he was holding was much to big to be a kitten.

Dmitri felt the kitten's tiny arms pull him closer, and it's fur brushing against his face. He couldn't help but smile at this. He had always loved cats, he studied them often, all of the legends associated with them. Cats were elegant and spiritual, and they brought good luck with them. He loved the occult, but he never worked up the courage to ask Aleksandr if they could keep one of the strays that came and went. He didn't know if Anya would think he was...manly if he had a cat. After all, what girl wants a weak, soft man? So he never asked. Maybe now, though, he could act irritated that this cat was here, and then he could let it stay with them, since he knew that Aleksandr would be too nice to kick out a stray that wanted to stay with them, and-

"_Mmmm..." _a soft, high voice said. Dmitri felt the kitten(?) stir in his arms, and its soft fur giving way to soft, smooth skin. Dmitri froze, his heart beginning to pound faster. This was a girl. He was holding a girl. A-Anya? Did Anya crawl in his bed? Did she finally realize her love for him?

Dmitri slowly opened his eyes, and, once more, found his indigo gaze staring into deep blue eyes. Their gazes remained locked for a good minute, and Dmitri could almost swore he tasted sweet, warm breath against his lips.

Then he realized that this was Amelia, not Anya he was holding against him. That realization was followed by Dmitri remembering that he was only wearing a pair of boxers, and that Amelia was only wearing an over-sized shirt that Dmitri had lent her. So there he was, half-naked, and holding Amelia against his bare chest.

The Belarusian jumped back, effectively leaping over the edge of his bed, and crashing to the floor, for the second time in two days. His head smacked against his work desk, leaving what Dmitri was almost positive was a concussion. He hissed angrily, clutching the back of his skull in pain. Amelia leaned over the side of the bed, her eyes wide and alarmed, one petite hand over her lips.

"D-Dmitri! Are you okay? Do you need ice?" she asked quickly, her words tumbling out in concerned fright. Dmitri growled and looked up at her, his violet eyes narrowed in frustration.

"_Tak, vy blin, mudak! Atrymajecie mnie pa-čartoŭsku liodu ciapier, moj hrobany kryvaciok!" _Dmitri snapped angrily at her. Amelia stared blankly at him, and Dmitri took a breath, remembering that Amelia only spoke English.

"Yes, please." he said flatly. Amelia nodded and jumped up, running to the mini freezer that the Belarusian kept ice in. She wrapped it in a rag and handed the pack to him, and the Belarusian pressed it to his head.

"That was a long sentence for just two words..." Amelia commented absently, watching Dmitri stand up and sit in the desk chair, his eyes shut from pain.

"I may have paraphrased it." he replied. Amelia nodded, crawling back under the covers and rolling the white sheets around her like a chrysalis. A few minutes passed in silence, only broken by the occasional rustling of sheets.

"What's in there?" Amelia finally asked, one hand poking out from her cocoon of sheets and pointing to the nightstand. Dmitri shrugged his shoulders, still not looking at the annoying, idiot girl. She probably didn't like anything to be quiet for more than thirty seconds. She didn't appreciate the beauty of silence, like Anya.

"I don't know. A bible probably." he replied. "In pretty much every room of every hotel, there's a bible. I don't know why."

For another moment, there was silence. Amelia reached for the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out the thick, black book. A strange look crossed her features, her eyes going blank, and her skin going pale. Her small lips opened slightly though no words came out. Dmitri stood up slowly, walking over to her. Her eyes were a solid, dark blue, as if nothing was behind them.

Then, she spoke. Her voice was soft and urgent, barely audible to the Belarusian. Her body seized as she spoke, her hands clenched tight around the holy book. She almost seemed to shake as she spoke, as if speaking the words took every last ounce of strength left in her petite body.

"_האבא שלי, יוצר את השמים ואת הארץ. סלח לי על חטאיי. תציל אותי מהגורל שלי. לא להרוס את הילד הזה, יציל אותי מהגורל שלי. בבקשה, הו אבא, סלח לי." _she hissed. Dmitri took her shoulders, and he leaned down, looking into her eyes.

"Amelia! Amy! Look at me!" Dmitri snapped urgently as he shook her frail body. The bible fell from her hands, and her head lolled back, like a doll. She went limp in his arms, falling against his chest. Dmitri took the book and slammed it into the nightstand, and he laid her against the bed. She fell limp into the pillow, her face pale, and her breathing shallow.

"Amelia, wake up, dammit! Fucking look at me! _Pračynajeciesia vy, blin, idyjet, Pieršy čym ja zabju ciabie!_" he snapped, his voice loud an urgent. She didn't respond. Dmitri growled and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers again and again, it wasn't so much as kissing as it was Dmitri slamming his mouth to hers, desperately trying to save her from whatever fit she had gone into. Dmitri's heart slammed against his ribs, panic rising in his chest.

After a few minutes, Amelia's eyes opened slowly, unfocused and sleepy, but they were open still. She blinked hazily at Dmitri, who was shaking and glaring down at her, fury pounding in his aching head.

"E-eh? What happened...?" she murmured slowly. Dmitri got off the bed and threw on his pants, shirt, and jacket, not looking at her.

"Don't you EVER do that again, you fucking idiot! Don't do that! I almost had a fucking heart attack! I've spent to much time on you to have you fucking hurt like that, do you hear me? Don't fucking do anything that puts you in danger!" he snapped at her. "Promise me, dammit! Promise me that you won't get hurt!" he demanded angrily. Amelia looked both confused and afraid, drawing the covers closer around her.

"E-eh...? I-I promise..." she stuttered. Dmitri nodded in satisfaction, and he turned his back once more to her.

"Now get dresses, Amy. This place serves breakfast." he told her. Behind him, he heard an excited cheer, and Amelia ran to the bathroom, grabbing the outfit Dmitri had bought her yesterday.

As soon as she was out of the room, he locked the drawer that held the bible.

* * *

A/N Please review guys~! *Huggles* I'll update again soon~!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N

Woohoo! I'm back! Though I only got one review from people who aren't my ff buddies. -3- Not very inspirational…too bad, because I love this story and you people have to deal with it! *Korra pose*

Anyway, since my incessant whining is done, let us continue.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words above and below. I don't even own the computer I'm writing on…

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

Okay, Amelia just was not natural.

He stared blankly at the feast she had laid out for herself, more than he thought the petite girl could ever put away in her lifetime. Her Styrofoam plate was piled high with food, so much so that part of it was obscuring his view of her. Waffles were stacked precariously, lathered with jam and drenched in maple syrup. Danishes were piled on another plate, along with a million chocolate chip muffins, as well as a bowl of cocoa puffs and several English muffins. She had even brought over the carton of milk from the breakfast spread, even having to outrun a six year old boy who needed milk for his Honey Nut Cheerios.

How long had she been asleep again...?

Dmitri absently nibbled on his toast and eggs as he watched her eat. It was an awe-inspiring sight, watching this tiny-framed girl shovel waffles at a time into her mouth, somehow never making a mess as she did so. She never even got a drop of syrup on her lips. In just a few minutes, her plate was empty, void of even crumbs, and a good third of the milk carton was gone. Through the entire massacre, nut a crumb had been spared, and not a spill had landed on Amelia. She looked at tiny as ever, with no evidence left behind that she had consumed enough food to feed the people of Monaco for a year.

'_Where the hell does she put it all...?' _Dmitri wondered to himself, looking at her. Amelia wasn't rail-thin like some girls he saw, she was curvy, but not at all fat. She had a round face and curvy hips, but it looked perfect on her.

'_Maybe it all goes to her breasts...'_ Dmitri wondered absently as his eyes once more roamed her tiny frame, then he quickly realized what he had thought, and he took a monster bite of his toast to hide the blush that was threatening to turn his face redder than a tomato. No. He was _not, no way in hell, _looking at her. Nope. Why would anyone ever get such a stupid idea?

"Are you done yet? You hardly got anything to eat." Amelia asked, tilting her head at him curiously. Dmitri finished one of his slices of toast, and leveled an irritated look at her.

"Some of us don't eat like pigs." he replied, shoveling another forkful of eggs into his mouth. Amelia's cheeks colored, and she spun around, folding her arms across her chest. Dmitri went back to eating, paying her no mind.

"I-I'm not a _pig!"_ she snapped, and Dmitri noticed that her voice was cracking slightly. He didn't reply, figuring that it was simply her being an oversensitive girl.

"I never said you were, just that you eat like one." he replied flatly, finishing and tossing his plate into the trash can. Amelia didn't reply, her face was angled down, her bangs covering her eyes. Dmitri simply walked on ahead of her, listening to her soft footsteps following him close behind. As he opened the door, he turned to her. She was looking away from him, he noticed that her lips were pressed tight together, and her eyes were shut.

Wait...was she close to crying...? The hell?! He...didn't want her to cry. He couldn't deal with crying girls!

"Hey..." he said softly to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. Amelia looked up, glaring at him, her blue eyes narrowed at him.

"What? Going to call me a dog now?" she snarled. Dmitri blinked, and it clicked in his mind. '_Shit, shit, shit...pig was a huge insult back from when she was from...fuck.'_

"I didn't mean to call you that, okay? It was a...joke. I...was teasing you. I didn't mean to call you a pig." He told her. Amelia snorted.

"Right, whatever." she replied, looking up at him with her blue eyes narrowed coldly at him. "Why am I here? What the hell do you want with me?" she asked, her voice getting a bit louder, and a bit colder.

"What...?" Dmitri asked, surprised at the coldness in her voice.

"I mean, what do you want with me? You don't know anything about me, so why do you care about what I do? What do you want me for? Why do you care about who I talked to, like that Arthur guy? Why do you care about what I wear, about who sees me?" she demanded. As she asked those questions angrily, she stood closer to him, until her nose was touching his. All he could see was the fire in her eyes.

Dmitri's mind was blank. He...couldn't answer any of those questions. No one, literally _no one, _had ever left him speechless like this. No one had ever made him stand frozen like this, staring into fiery eyes and leaving his heart pounding with in his chest.

Why...why did he care about Amelia? He...couldn't answer that. There was just...something about her that made him want to protect her, and make sure nothing ever hurt her...it was a feeling he had never felt before, not even for Anya...

**No...he loved Anya, **_**not**_** this stupid little**** girl.**

"I...I...I want to..." he stuttered, trying to give voice to his strange need to protect this innocent, strange, beautiful girl in front of him. A cold hand reached into his chest, and claws squeezed in his heart, making it rather hard to breath.

What was wrong with him?

"I'm waiting..." she snarled, her eyes narrowing to near slits, leaving cold blue just barely glinting out of her eyes.

"I just...I don't know why...I just...want to p-protect you..." he stuttered, trying hard to keep his face from going red. He felt so stupid saying that. Here he was, a college student majoring in writing, yet he couldn't find the words to try to explain to freaking _Snow White_ how he felt.

He kind of wondered if someone had slipped him something yesterday.

Amelia blinked, anger lifting from her eyes, and it was instead replaced with confusion. Dmitri hardly noticed this, he was now becoming preoccupied by trying very hard to not become aware of the fact that, since Amelia was very...endowed, her chest was pressing against him when she leaned in his face, and his senses were being invaded by the strawberries and cream shampoo she used that morning, and he could almost taste the maple syrup she had on her waffles with how close she was standing.

'_Pleasestepbackpleasestepback .'_

Because God decided that he finally liked Dmitri for a change, Amelia took a step away from him, and Dmitri finally relaxed, letting his breath out.

"Why?" Amelia asked him. Strangely, relief flooded him at the way her voice changed, going from angry and cold to just simply curious. The cold hand released his heart, and he was finally able to breathe again.

"I...I don't know. Just...I do.." he finally replied. Confusion was still alight in the girl's eyes, but she seemed to accept that answer. Dmitri opened the door, and he held it for her, watching her walk inside. She sprawled out on the bed and looked up at Dmitri curiously.

"Do you live here?" she asked him. Dmitri snorted and shook his head.

"I live in America. I'm just here for Spring Break to get a jump on my thesis for my minor in history." he replied. Amelia tilted her head, but said nothing more. Dmitri shook his head.

"I'm in school. I have to write to graduate, so I came here to study." he explained. Amelia's mouth opened in an 'o' in understanding, and she nodded.

"I live in an apartment alone. Sometimes my family visits." he explained. Then he looked up at her, and he frowned slightly. He had no idea how long Amelia was going to live with him...

"I guess...you live there too." he added after a minute. Amelia's face seemed to light up at being accepted into his home, and Dmitri looked away.

"Do you still have to study?" she asked him. Dmitri looked back over at her. His report was on legends surrounding castles...

"Yes...but I think we should find out who you are first." he said.

He honestly thought that if Amelia's eyes glowed anymore with happiness, that they would be brighter than the sun.

* * *

A/N Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N

I know this took a while, but I hope that you guys like this chapter! ^-^ It's only thanks to the amazing and wonderful Emo Vampire Chic that I was able to do it. X3

Anyway, I hope you like!

Disclaimer: I only own my fanfics.

* * *

_Blue eyes were downcast, narrowed into near slits, burning with anger and hatred. Breath came in short gasps, shoulders trembling with weakness. Black wings, the colour of the night sky, brushed the earth, feathers limp and wilted. The angel looked up, her eyes taking in eternity. Blood, the same scarlet that pumped in the veins of man, pooled at her feet, staining her ivory skin crimson, and dripping from every violent slash that dug into her skin, webbing over her back and arms. She could have died right then, and she knew it. She was a traitor. A demon. A follower of Him..._

_...she was standing in the pale, silvery light of the sunrise, smiling up at the morning sky. She was unseen by all, the angel who's job it was to take the fallen to the kingdom of eternity. She never focused on the living, only the dead, and only the colours of the sky. The living...the humans...they scared her...how could they do such horribleness to each other? How could the Almighty allow this to happen...?  
_

_...she never has an answer...there is only silence to her screams. Perhaps...perhaps Lucifer was right...there is only cruelty in humans, and only hatred in the Almighty. She hated seeing their faces...the faces of the children, the mourning, the living...perhaps she would fight...  
_

_Blackness._

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)_  
_

His eyebrow twitched in frustration as he looked at Amelia's sleeping face. What was the point of taking her to the library if she fell asleep every time she opened a book? Leaning over, he flicked her forehead. He was seriously running out of creative ways to wake the idiot up. Actually, Dmitri was kind of glad that she was asleep...kicking her chair out from underneath her had landed Dmitri with nearly half an hour of the idiot blonde bitching at him, resulting in the Librarian throwing them out twice before he was able to persuade his way back in. (It lost him nearly twenty euros, but whatever, as long as he was inside.)

And she was still asleep...the Belarusian poked her with the end of his pen, causing her nose to twitch and her eyes to squeeze shut tightly. Dmitri almost laughed at the ridiculous, childish reaction. Leaning over, he brushed his fingertips against her cheek, and she twisted her head, burying her face in the crook of her arm, mumbling soft, incomprehensible words under her breath. Another smile flirted with the edges of his lips as he traced his hand underneath her waves of honey-coloured hair. Her skin was unbelievably soft, like lilies. He almost forgot his original purpose, to tease her until she awoke, so lost he was in observing his new roommate.

His fingers whispered over the plane of her cheek again, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheekbone. Her face was rounder than Anya's, very innocent in appearance. A few freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, and a few were scattered across her cheeks, over her sun-kissed skin. It wasn't perfect, flawless skin like Anya's (oh, how he wished he could touch Anya's) but there was something...beautiful about it all the same. Her lips were petal-pink, like his older sister's, and slightly parted, so he could feel the light whisper of her breath. Her lips were fuller than Anya's, and he could almost feel the softness on his lips, even from so far away. Absently, the Belarusian traced a thumb over her lip. It felt like silk, soft and warm, and he could feel the gentle mist of her breath on his hand.

The reason he felt goosebumps on his arms was _obviously _because her breath was warm, and he felt cold. Never mind the jacket he was wearing.

Dmitri traced his thumb over both of her silky lips, then he pushed her longs bangs back, out of her eyes. Her eyes were always so wide and expressive, so different than Anya's, or even Dmitri's own eyes. She was such an open girl, and her eyes were the most open thing about her. Her eyes were wide and innocent, glimmering with excitement and happiness. If one looked deep enough into her eyes, they could have sworn they saw her heart and soul in them, with just how wonderfully open and beautiful they were. Her eyes were only shadowed by her long, feathery eyelashes, always hiding the top of her eyes, and always taking just a bit of the shine, but never enough to dull the way her eyes glowed.

Finally drawing his hand away, Dmitri noticed that his fingers were warm, and they almost seemed to tingle with a strange...warmth. He noticed that his breath was staggered just a bit, as if somehow merely touching her was enough to take his breath away...

...he was touching her face.

Her FACE.

What the hell was wrong with him...?

The second he drew his hand away, he watched her eyes flutter slightly, showing a sliver of blue under her long eyelashes. She blinked at him, rubbing her eyes slightly, banishing sleep from her gaze.

"Why...are you leaning forward at me like that...?" she mumbled, giving him a strange look. A tint of red touched Dmitri's cheeks, and he quickly snapped back into his chair, straightening his back.

"I wanted to see if people really wake up if someone stares at them." he explained quickly, looking away from her. Amelia nodded sleepily, and hid a yawn behind her petite hand.

"'k...well...I'm going to go check out Superman comics...be back..." she said, standing up and walking away. Dmitri resisted the strong urge to face-palm, and instead stood up, deciding to move on from history, and instead to legends. He walked down the shelves, his eyes scanning every title. Dmitri released a soft sigh of frustration when he reached the end of the religious studies section. All of it was commentary on the relations of different legends, or explaining the myths of dead religions. None of them was a simple collection of biblical myths.

It wasn't very surprising, considering that if one wanted to find all of the less-studied legends, one would have to look in the Holy Book itself...and there was no way that he was letting Amelia touch one ever again. Instead, Dmitri selected a Holy Bible (wow, he's never seen one in an American library...though he supposed Europe was less politically correct about religion, he didn't remember Belarus enough to be able to tell) and he began to flip through it at a fast pace. The Old Testament was mostly linear, save for a few legends sprinkled about, so he instead skipped ahead.

Now...Amelia was in a church, asleep, so maybe-

"Hey! It's Fuzzy-Brows!" Amelia chimed, causing Dmitri to drop the bible, and quickly place it back on the shelf, away from Amelia. He looked up, several sections away, and saw Amelia, holding a superman book, waving excitedly at the Englishman.

Dmitri wondered if he had his knives anywhere on his person...

He watched, his nails digging into his palms, as Arthur whispered something into her ear. Dmitri shot up, and strode across the library quickly. As soon as he was across from the Englishman, he smiled tightly, his eyes narrowed. With one hand, he took Amelia's arm, not enough to hurt, but enough for her to give him a strange look.

"I'm sorry, but we have to go." he said. Amelia protested, but he didn't pay any attention.

"Understood." Arthur replied stiffly. He smiled at Amelia, who seemed to blush. Anger pulsed through Dmitri, and he had the strong urge to hold Amelia and never let her go.

"Bye!" he called out, striding out with her, Amelia following, her lips pressed in frustration. Dmitri promised absently that they'd return tomorrow, but in truth, he was still too focused on the Briton.

He could have sworn that Arthur's eyes seemed black, just for a second. But it might have been because Dmitri had been practically seeing red by that point.

* * *

A/N Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N

The first few chapters were cute, huh? With all the adorable tsundere-ness between Amelia and Dmitri. They're such a Takahashi couple, aren't they?

But you guys know me, right? Well, the ones who have read some of my best-known fics do. I'm not one for a complete romcom, as you can probably tell. As much as I adore those kind of shows, after all, I am a big Hetalia fan; I simply can't write those kind of fanfictions, at least, without throwing some kind of angst into the mix. I guess it's my weakness as a writer, I don't do well with romantic comedies.

Oh well. If my readers don't mind, than I will continue with the way I tell my stories.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

One more thing: I think this song kind of fits.

www. youtube watch?v=AQcpiZf5eo8&list=FLribyn2-A5cWr24dhj-Hu_A&index=5

* * *

(Amelia's POV)

It was a strange sort of sensation, to not know exactly how to feel. She kind of stumbled after the taller, Belarusian boy, her lips pressed into a thin line, and her hand clenched tightly in his. Amelia felt like she had been thrown into a sea; her world was shifting and spinning, as if she was going to drown at any minute in the emotions she simply couldn't sort out.

What the hell was Dmitri's problem? Why did he just drag her away from a friend? Why was he acting like he owned her...? And even more, why did he care about her at all? He had made it apparent several times that he didn't like her that much, so what was his issue?

And, more than anything, _**he didn't own**** her.**_

Amelia bit hard into her lower lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough to relieve a sliver of the frustration she felt. Twisting her arm and pulling it to her side, she took her hand back, planting her feet and glaring at Dmitri. The Belarusian boy turned, blinking in surprise, but stopping after a moment, and putting on his usual blank, cold face.

"What?" he asked, walking over to her, stopping just a foot away.

For some reason, it irritated Amelia even more that he didn't know what was making her...feel this way. How could he ever think that he had the right to make her feel this way? Anyone would be upset, feeling so confused and angry and lost the way she was. Her nails digging into her palms, the blonde walked over to the Belarusian, her eyes burning in anger, and strangely stinging, though she had no idea why.

"Goodbye." she said, the word escaping Amelia's lips without her truly thinking it through. It surprised even her, she didn't even consider leaving him behind until she said it. But somehow, it felt right. What better way to solve all of her problems than by leaving? It didn't even occur to Amelia that Dmitri was the one person she knew, the one person that kept her safe.

She simply _**did not**_ want to be owned, or used, simple as that.

"What...?" Dmitri asked, confusion flickering in his indigo eyes. Amelia pressed her lips tighter together, and glared intensely at him, trying to project as much hatred as she possibly could.

"You heard me, goodbye." she spat. "You don't _own me_, and you're pissing me off! Stop acting as if you care about me, you don't! You're just an asshole who is using me! So shut up and leave me alone! I'm just a hindrance, right? That stupid girl you hate, so just go away and leave me alone!" Strangely, Amelia's heart was pounding very fast, though she was barely speaking loud enough to gather any passer-byes attention. Dmitri looked stricken, his indigo eyes wide, as if she had slapped him.

It was the one of the few real emotions she could ever get out of him.

Seeing this, Amelia ran, tearing as fast as she could into the street, vanishing among the bodies crowding the sidewalk. She ran until her heels ached, burning from the constant rubbing of her boots against her small, soft foot. After her chest ached for air, Amelia finally stopped, ducking behind a building, just in case Dmitri had followed; and she sank against the paved alleyway, curling against the wall.

Amelia was overreacting...and she knew it, but she didn't care. Besides...Arthur was nicer to her. Maybe she should figure out what the string of numbers he gave her was for, and maybe she could stay at his home for a while. He was a nice guy...

The blonde buried her face in her arms, her shoulders shaking, and her eyes continuing to sting oddly, along with her throat. She honestly had no idea what was wrong with her...

No..the real question is what was wrong with him! She had no idea why he acted like he cared one minute, and then he was a cruel, arrogant, horrible person the next...why did he act like he cared?

And if he did...why _did _he care?

"Are you okay?" A soft, deep voice asked, somewhere to her left. Amelia lifted her head slightly, just enough to show her eyes to the owner of the voice.

It was a blonde man, very tall, with clear, piercing blue eyes. He was wearing a pure white suit that clung to him, exposing his well-toned form. Strangely, she didn't feel intimidated. She felt like she knew him from somewhere, though she couldn't remember anything further back than waking up two days ago...

"No..." Amelia whispered softly, and the strange burning flared once more in her eyes, followed by the feeling of wetness rolling down her cheeks. She had never felt this before, it was so foreign, yet she wasn't concerned. The overwhelming familiarity about the strange man before her was intense. He had almost a fatherly presence, and she felt that she could trust him.

"What's wrong?" The blonde man asked, sitting next to Amelia. The latter looked at him, and then hid her face within her sleeve once more, letting her honey bangs cover her eyes.

"My friend...he acts like he hates me, but he tries to control me...and I don't know if he really even cares about me. Or why he would...I barely know him..." Amelia's voice broke at the end, and she trembled once more as water rolled down her cheeks. The man laid a hand on her shoulder, offering her a gentle, comforting smile. He held out a large, strong hand to her, and Amelia slipped her petite hand in his, as he pulled her up. Water poured down her cheeks, and the blonde man held her in a fatherly manner, gently stroking her hair, and telling her that it would be okay.

When Amelia first began screaming, she had no idea. All she was aware of was the blade buried in her waist, so deep that the hilt was pushed against her bare stomach. She was not aware of how long it stayed, or how the blade had begun to tear her inside apart. All she was aware of was the pavement against her knees, the blood dripping from her side, and the overwhelming feeling of terror. footsteps stopped in front of her, and terror once again gripped Amelia, holding her heart in its icy claws.

She wished...she could see Dmitri's face one last time...

Somewhere, something was screaming inside of her. Instinct roared through her, a strong voice, a desperate plead. That single, simple instinct in the back of every mortal's mind.

**I will not die.**

The power that pulsed through her veins was white-hot, powerful and intoxicating, _burning _her to the very core. It purred, a being of its own, whispering through her body, lacing her with strength she had never felt before. The man took a step back, his eyes narrowed, never flinching, though she had surely changed.

He didn't remember her eyes brandishing daggers, or burning like fire, like the scorching depths of hell themselves.

_**Death. **_It whispered to her. Death. Oh yes, there would surely be death. The shadows of the alley twisted and coiled on themselves, purring and curling, dripping from her fingers. They begged to serve, begged to kill. A smile curled over the honey-blonde girl's lips, a twisted smile of sick glee. Oh yes, she felt sick, but she had never felt this strong. She was strong, immortal, untouchable, infallible. Wings, transparent and intangible, unfolded from her back. They were the colour of night, the deepest black imaginable. Amelia smiled, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

* * *

"Amelia..." a soft voice whispered, broken and trembling. Blue eyes fluttered open, barely enough to be considered conscious. She was barely aware of the arms that cradled her, or of the soft body she was balanced against. She wasn't even aware of the gaping wound in her side, or of the pain that should've been ripping through her entire body.

She was, however, aware of the identity of the body holding her. She wasn't quite sure how she knew. Maybe it was the voice.

"Dm...itri?" she asked, barely able to choke out his name. Two indigo eyes were immediately locked on hers. Amelia's lips quirked into a small smile, barely a twitch, but enough to see.

"You...you IDIOT!" The Belarusian snapped. His voice was cracked and grating, like there was an obstruction in his throat. For just a moment, Amelia flinched. But then she saw his eyes. His eyes were glowing with so many emotions: panic, relief, happiness, sadness, hurt, worry...more than Amelia could truly see. Water was pouring down his cheeks as well, dripping onto her face, and rolling down her chin. That water meant sadness...didn't it?

He was worried about her...

"You IDIOT! Don't you ever do that again, you dumbass! You almost died, you're so STUPID! NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! NEVER HURT YOURSELF LIKE THIS AGAIN!" Dmitri yelled, his voice breaking at the very end, obstructed by more tears. Amelia's eyes fell shut again as the darkness claimed her, though this time, it felt less like hell, and more like a gentle sleep.

* * *

The last time she woke up, she was in a warm bed. She had been left in her clothes, but a white bandage was wrapped snugly around her waist, and she could no longer feel the pain of her wound. Sitting up, Amelia blinked into the darkness, before she realized that something was in her hand.

Dmitri, still in his coat, was sitting inches away. His chin was resting against his chest, and his bangs were covering his eyes, though she knew he was asleep. A strange warmth spread through Amelia, and she found herself smiling. She laid down again, and pressed his warm hand to her cheek as she fell asleep once more, deciding that it didn't matter what he said...he really did think of her as a friend, at least a little.

* * *

A/N The first chapter from Amelia's POV I hope you guys enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N

Thank you, all who reviewed! ^-^ I'm so happy that you guys like this story! It feels wonderful to have people wanting me to write!

With that in mind, I hope that you guys enjoy this!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

* * *

"_**Who are you?"** _

_A powerful, dominating voice demanded, the words laced with anger, piercing her, dripping with malice. Cold, it was all so cold, chilling her to the bone, freezing her solid. All the girl could do was scramble back, staring with wide, tear-filled eyes into the light that blinded her. Why did it hurt so much? Why did everything hurt? Why did she have to exist, why did she have to live with this pain? Who was she? Why was she here?_

_**"What do you want?"**  
_

_Tremoring, she fell against the wall, her fingernails cutting into her palms, letting scarlet beads of blood drip from the ivory skin. She didn't remember this, having blood. Since when was she ever hurt? When was the last time she felt pain like this? Nothing clouded her consciousness, all of her senses were unbearably sharpened by the pain. She had no sense of herself, no sense of who she was, or what she wanted. All she felt was the chill of fear, the pain of blood dripping to the floor, and the unbearable feeling of her heart racing, swelling and heavy, beating out of her drowning chest.  
_

_She was suddenly aware of rain falling from her eyes, and the painful feeling of her jaws clenched painfully, unbearably tight. Light pierced her vision, blinding, burning brightness, and it left her shaking, trembling with fear, and sobbing. She felt unbearable fear, every sense in her body screamed that death was present, that she would die. Yet the questions pounded her consciousness, never leaving, always the same questions._**  
**

_**"Who are you?"**  
_

_**"What do you want?"  
**_

_"I don't know!" she found herself screaming, curling against the wall, her bloody hands clenching the golden waves of her hair, leaving scarlet streaks behind. Squeezing her eyes shut, painfully tight, she could not escape the piercing light, nor escape the angry questions that demanded inspection of her soul. Shadows lapped at her feet, shrinking from the light, yet curling around her petite frame, as if seeking salvation in the shadow of the crying, lost girl. They hid behind her, like children behind a mother's skirt. The loud, demanding questions were slowly drowned out by murmurs, whispers of promise, whispers of temptation, of salvation. The creatures; monsters, curled around her fingertips, hiding from the piercing, overwhelming light, the light of true power, hissing to her, whispering, tempting.  
_

**"****I know what you are."**_  
_

**"I am what you want."  
**

**"I can save you."  
**

**"I can help you."  
**

**"I can love you."  
**

**"Come with me."  
**

_"No, no, no! Please! Leave me alone!" she screamed, rain battering the ground, mixing with the scarlet life that pooled from her hands. Caterwauling shrieks ripped from her throat, animal cries overflowing with anguish. She wasn't aware of her shadow, she couldn't see the raven wings that stretched from the blackness behind her. She never saw as the shadows shrieked and melted away, or the way that the light dimmed in the presence of death.  
_

_I am-_

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

It was the early light of the morning that awoke him, the silver brightness spilling through the wall-length window. He almost regretted coming to consciousness, considering the soreness and exhaustion of his entire body. That thought was quickly extinguished when the Belarusian saw Amelia.

The American girl was already awake, sitting upright in her bed, something that should've been impossible, or at least incredibly painful, considering her physical condition. Yet she seemed to not feel an ounce of pain, and was instead staring blankly at her hands, which were stained red with dry blood. Her entire body was; in fact, save for the wound on her side that Dmitri had cleaned the night before. Her hair was matted and stained with both dirt and blood, as well as her face, and her clothes. Amelia was silent, her eyes half-shut and dull, as if her life had been drained.

It just...wasn't right.

"Amy?" Dmitri asked, trying out the nickname she had allowed him to use. The name tasted odd on his tounge, he was used to the longer, more rhythmic, almost song-like name: Amelia. Amy just seemed to short, almost child-like, for the American girl.

It was almost a strange thought to him, considering that Amy sounded rather close to Anya, if you think about it.

Amelia jumped slightly, as if not realizing the Belarusian was in the same room as her. She looked up at him, wide-eyed and pale, as if afraid. Her eyes seemed dull, almost devoid of life, though still retaining a tint of fear. They were rimmed with red, as if she had been crying. Dried tears clung to her cheeks, making the dried blood on her cheek run slightly.

Dmitri couldn't quite describe the feeling he had, it was almost like just seeing the normally cheerful American cry was enough to make him cry as well. It didn't make any sense...he had only known her for a few days...what was wrong with him?

"Amelia...why are you crying?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle, more than he had ever used before. The blonde didn't reply, instead more tears welled over, dripping down her pale cheek. Dmitri bit his lip, not feeling the tiny prick of pain. He stood up and stepped over to the bed, kneeling beside her, so he was looking up at her. Amelia stared down blankly at him, dried blood staining the flowing tears pink.

"I'm so sorry..." he told her softly, barely able to make the words come out of his lips. "I should have protected you, I should have stopped that person...I shouldn't have treated you like I did...I'm so sorry for letting you get hurt, and almost..."

_die._

The only response he got was the slow blink of her large, empty blue eyes, and the slow shift of her head, her blood-stained bangs covering her eyes, the tears flowing freely, dripping onto the blankets.

"Amelia...please...talk to me..." he said, reaching out with one hand, and taking hers, squeezing her bloodstained, tiny fingers. Amelia flinched, going pale with the simple, comforting touch. Her hand jerked away, and she cupped it against her chest, covering it with her other hand, shaking softly. Dmitri drew back, watching her, internally crying out at her, begging for any response, and semblance of the happy girl he knew.

"Who..." she asked softly, her voice broken, shaking with tears. "Am I...?"

"What...?" The Belarusian asked blankly, feeling slight threads of fear crawl into his heart. Amelia bit her lip, her small hands curling into fists.

"Who...am I? Why am I here...can you tell me that?" she asked, her voice growing stronger with every word, though still cracking from sorrow. He could see her eyes again, though this time, rather than broken, they were filled with a torrent of emotions, glowing like nothing he had ever seen before.

"Tell me!" she cried out, curling her fingers into the sheets. "Please, tell me! I want to know why I'm here! Who I am! You're supposed to protect me, right? You said you would! You're supposed to make me feel better, and care about me! I want to know who I am, you said you would help me with that! Tell me!" She was now almost screaming, and her voice was shaking and cracked, it sounded almost painful to hear. Dmitri flinched, and it felt like he was suddenly drowning, his heart weighed down with feelings he couldn't decipher.

"Amelia..." he started softly, his voice almost a breath. The American knelt over, laying her face against the bed, one hand clawing into the sheets, the other clutched in her bloodstained hair.

"Who am I?"

Before he realized what he was doing, Dmitri was sitting in front of Amelia, pulling her against his chest, and holding her. The American didn't fight him. She lent into his embrace, sobbing.

"You're...Amelia. You're a nice, pretty, funny, happy girl, _Tak?_ You're kind of ditzy and naive, but...that's what makes you Amelia...you're a sweet girl, and you don't cry like this...you're happiness...it's what I...like...about you..." the words were kind of hard to get out, but...Dmitri didn't care anymore. He had to make her happy...he hated seeing her sad. Besides, she couldn't see the way his cheeks were inflamed, so it wasn't like she could tell.

But he didn't like her.

He didn't.

He _didn't..._

"But...who am I really? I don't know..." she continued, though her voice wasn't as strained as before. Her voice was slightly muffled, since she was hiding in the fabric of his thick winter jacket. Dmitri combed his fingers through her matted hair, shutting his eyes, trying to think of a way to bring back her smile.

"It doesn't matter right now, Amelia. It just doesn't matter. Not to me, and it shouldn't to you. So...stop crying, okay? I don't...like it when you cry." The words spilled awkwardly from his lips, Dmitri not being the kind of person who could easily show emotion. But it worked anyway, Amelia was slowly beginning to relax, though she still sniffled and trembled softly in his arms. Eventually, she looked up at him, tears clinging to her eyelashes, though no longer falling from her eyes. Though her eyes still swirled with a tempest of confusion and hurt, he could again see the spark of life that always made them glow, brighter than the stars.

As if pulled by an unseen force, Dmitri drew closer, never breaking their gaze. Their lips met, for a third time, but it was different. His hands gently cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the blood and tears. She was warm and soft, vulnerable and strong. She was nothing like how he had dreamed kissing would be, nothing like his dreams of Anya. She was warm and gentle and fit perfectly against him. Amelia was kissing him, and he was kissing back.

Okay...maybe he did like her...a little bit.

* * *

A/N Please review~!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N

Okays, so it has been forever since I updated this fic. I'm sorry guys, but I had a brief spiel of writer's block.

I hope you guys like this chapter, I spent a long time working on it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

They stayed that way for a long time; holding the other in their arms, as if life itself depended on it.

Amelia was no longer shaking, she was simply curled up against him, her face buried in his chest. Her small hands were linked together on his back, and it almost hurt with how tight she was holding him, as if she was afraid he would disappear if she let go, even for one second. One of Dmitri's arms was wrapped around her waist, pulling the petite girl against him. It didn't occur to him how strange this was, or how wrong it was for him to be holding a girl that wasn't Anya in his arms. He wasn't thinking about how kissing her felt warm and perfect, or about her smile made him feel. His other hand was weaved into her matted hair, gently cradling her face against his chest. His lips and nose were pressed to the top of her head, and he didn't mind the scent and taste of blood and dirt. His eyes were shut, and all he could feel was her.

He just wanted to keep holding her for eternity, and maybe kiss her a few more times, just to make her smile...and maybe...because...it felt warm to kiss her. Not physically, but...he couldn't describe it properly. The closest way he could think of it was that the sun settled in his chest and made him feel warm.

No, he did not just sound that corny...and no, that was not anything more than a crush he was feeling, not at all. And it wasn't even a crush, really. He didn't just think she was pretty, like how someone did when they had a crush. It was more...like she was a sister. He wanted to hold her against his chest and make her feel happy and smile, and he wanted to protect her and make sure no one else would ever hurt her, and he wanted her to never love anyone else, just to protect her. He would kill whoever else she loved, because, again, she was his friend and he wanted to protect her.

That wasn't a crush whatsoever. _Ny._

"Thank you..." Amelia whispered softly, her voice muffled by his heavy winter coat. Dmitri blinked in surprise and tilted his head up so that he was instead looking down at her. He could feel her arms tighten even more around his waist when he moved, so the Belarusian made a mental note to not move so much for her.

"Why are you thanking me?" he asked softly, barely a whisper. She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. Once more, the Belarusian felt himself entranced by her innocent gaze.

"Because you're here...and I need you here...and you're being nice to me...I know how much I cause problems for you, so I'm grateful that you're here." she replied. Her voice was still soft, and he had the impression that she would be crying if she didn't speak so softly. Dmitri let out a soft sound of frustration, and pulled her once more against his chest.

"Don't say that, idiot..." he told her, furrowing his eyebrows. "Didn't I just tell you? I like you, Amelia. I'm not annoyed by you, so top thinking that. I like you."

"I...I guess..." she replied softly. Dmitri frowned and gently cupped her face in his hands, leaning down so that she was looking directly into his eyes. He couldn't see his reflection in her wide, sky-coloured eyes. He couldn't see anything but her. Her eyes were deeper than the space between the stars, yet they were also so clear, displaying her very soul.

Dmitri couldn't help but wonder who this girl was, and why she had appeared to him.

"It's true, Amelia. I like you. Please believe me, I don't know how to make it any clearer to you." He told her, his lips centimeters away from hers. Amelia shut her eyes, and he watched as tears started to fall down her cheeks.

"Stop that...I don't want you to cry." he told her, biting his lip in slight frustration. In response, she ducked her head and buried her face in his chest, crying harder.

"I'm sorry...I can't help it..." she apologized again, her fingers curling tighter against his back.

"Let's...let's sleep, okay?" he asked her. "The sun hasn't come up yet, and my brother always told me that things look better in the morning."

"Okay..." she whispered softly, still not looking up from his chest. After a moment of waiting, Dmitri very, very slowly laid back on the bed, still holding her against his chest.

"You really need to shower in the morning." he told her.

"Okay." she replied, her voice still muffled by his coat.

"S_pakojnaj nočy_." he told her.

"Goodnight." she replied.

* * *

"You're doing a real good job, aren't you?" a voice purred from behind the blonde man, tainted with laughter. Said blonde man turned around, glaring at the other with cold eyes. The voice was coming from a man with red hair and green eyes, sporting demonic wings and a prehensile tail. Two horns sprouted from his red hair, and a wide smile revealed rows of sharp, white teeth.

"You will not win." the blonde replied. The demon laughed, appearing before the blonde, glaring right into the blonde's cold, blue eyes.

"She's more powerful than you think, angel." the demon said, laughing. "And with her on our side, He will fall."

"You overestimate your own power, demon. The Almighty will protect humanity, He is merciful, you will die."

"Merciful, huh? Like the way he saved your little Italian? If I remember right, you held him while he died. That's real mercy, right there. Killing someone one of his own servants loved. That's definite love."

The angel's hands shook, and his icy eyes narrowed. In the next moment, he had a pure white sword pressed against the demon's neck, his hands trembling.

"Do not speak of his name, filth. Or you will die right now."

"Try me." the demon replied, smiling. "Her brother, Abaddon, is already with us. Death is evil, angel. Death works with us, they will not work for the Almighty."

"You know nothing." The angel snarled, pressing the blade closer to the demon's neck. The searing light burned into the demon's neck, yet he continued to laugh.

"Death is the only truth in this world. Just as how your little Italian died."

"SILENCE!" The angel snapped, throwing the demon against the wall. The demon vanished into shadow, laughing.

"Temper, temper~!" he purred. "Tell you what, I'll give you a little help, because you're so cute when you're frustrated, and not with a stick up your ass like what you're normally like."

The demon appeared before the angel, smiling and floating upside-down. Smiling at the angel's glare, he righted himself.

"That human she's with, she has feelings for him. If I can convince her to join us, using him, well...you're done for."

The demon then vanished, and the angel looked at the spot where he had been.

He had to work fast, and kill them all, before it was all over.

* * *

The next day found Arthur Kirkland sitting on the metro, heading into Berlin. Sitting across from him was the duo of Amelia and Dmitri. He smiled up at them, his green eyes glowing.

Much too easy.

* * *

A/N Please review!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N

Thank you for all the kind reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

"'Mitri..."

The Belarusian groaned, flipping over. He immediately felt cold feet against his back, and toes wiggling against the thin fabric of his shirt. He threw a pillow at the blonde, and he heard her squeak as she fell off the bed. Sitting up, he quickly peeked over the side of the bed, checking to see if she was okay. He was immediately greeted by a smack to the face by the hotel pillow, and he fell backwards, letting out a manly yelp of surprise. The bed, a mere twin size, could not keep him balanced as he topped over the side, falling against the floor. He saw Amy's face poking out over the side of the bed, and she gave him an evil grn, an expression he never imagined would be possible on the innocent girl's face. However, his eyes were also drawn to her...chest...also hanging off the side of the bed.

"Don't you ever wear a bra...?" he found himself asking. Amy's face went bright red, and she disappeared behind the side of the bed. Dmitri realized what he asked, and clapped his hand over his mouth. A minute later, he felt three pillows fall on his face, and then a blanket, and then his heavy winter coat.

"I told you, I don't have one! I use my shirt!" she cried out, and he could almost see the blush on her face. Dmitri didn't say a word, he was too busy trying to figure out which material on his face would work fastest when he attempted to asphyxiate himself.

"...'Mitri? Dmitri, are you mad...?" He heard her ask. Dmitri blinked in confusion. Him? Mad at her? Wasn't he the one who asked about her-

Nope.

Not going there again.

"Idiot..." he said, sitting up, poking his head out of the pile of fabrics. Amy blinked, and he saw that her shirt was now tied up.

_Oh thank god._

"I'm not mad...well, okay, maybe a little that you made me fall out of bed, but that's all..."

"You hit me with a pillow! Of course I'm going to hit you back!" she snapped, furrowing her brows. Dmitri smirked, sitting up.

"Exactly...you really need to take a shower." he said, looking her up and down. Amelia flinched, and Dmitri walked over. She was obviously averse to letting her wound touch water, for fear of pain, but it was best to clean it off once more, in case of infection.

"It's okay, Amelia. just let me see it, if it's too fresh, we can wait until tomorrow, and just clean off the blood and dirt with rags, okay? And your hair can be washed in the sink." he told her. It was rather like talking to a smile child, the way she would look away and not say a word. He wondered what she was so afraid of, and why she was always asking rather he was mad.

He really didn't want her to hate him...

Walking over, he gently pushed his fingertips underneath the top of her bandages, which stretched from just under her chest, to her waist. The stab wound had been deep and bloody, done by an obvious expert. The blade itself seemed to be long, because of how deep the wound had gone, and how much blood she had lost. She had been stabbed multiple times at different angles, most of them were vertical gashes that just went below skin level, but the uppermost wound had been a straight stab, cutting deep. He didn't have any medical tools, save for a first aid kit, so he wasn't able to do much in terms of saving her life. He could have just taken her to a hospital, of course, and that was definitely the smartest thing to do. After all, no matter how much medical experience he had (his parents had sent him and his sister to his aunt and uncle's home in Russia for most of his life, in hopes that he would become a doctor like them, while his brother stayed home and took care of the farm) he was definitely not on par with professionals.

But...

He didn't want anyone else to know about Amelia, to take her away.

God, he was an idiot! His brotherly lov-affect-caringness (yes, that was the word) for her wasn't worth losing her! But...but as long as she was still okay and happy, it was alright...

Gingerly peeling back the bandages, he blinked in amazement. All that was left of the deep, fatal wounds was a pink scar. It was covered in dry blood, yes, but it was completely healed. Dmitri carefully, gently traced his fingers over the wound, expecting her to flinch. However, the only response he got was a slight twitch, as if she had been tickled, rather than hurt.

"You're...amazing..." he found himself saying. He didn't see the light pink blush dust her cheeks. He gently strokes the soft, smooth skin of her wound with his thumb, almost falling into a trance. Her skin was porcelain, soft, and warm. It was incredible...she was always so fragile, but...but she was so strong, underneath her shy, cheerful exterior. She was amazing, and so warm.

Not anything like Anya...Anya was always so cold, so distant, and she never smiled the way Amelia did, with her heart in it, and shining like the sun. Anya was strong, motherly, and caring. Anya was the only one who had loved him, she was the one who cared for him when his family fell apart, when his parents died, and his aunt and uncle hated him. When they whipped and slapped and screamed, she took care of him, she loved him.

But Anya changed, she was cold and distant...she always rejected him. But Amelia was different, she was strong and caring in a different way. She was warm and loving, like Anya, but he knew...the warmth in her eyes wasn't out of friendship.

But she wasn't Anya.

She wasn't his other half, she wasn't his true love, his precious, beautiful, loving sister.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Then we'll go out and find who you really are."

* * *

Dmitri sat next to her on the metro, staring out the window. Amelia sat quietly next to him, staring straight ahead.

"Why do people die?" she suddenly asked. Dmitri blinked, completely and utterly confused by the strange question. He looked down at her, and she looked away, distant.

"Why do you ask?" he asked. She didn't hear him.

"Why are humans like this? Why do they kill? Why does God favor them, when all they do is die and kill? Tell me, why?" she continued. Her voice was soft, hesitant, like she was struggling to speak.

"Amelia...?"

There was a sudden change. He could feel the atmosphere shift, and suddenly, he and Amelia were the only two there. Someone had taken upon themselves the liberty painting the sky black. Amelia smiled at him, a twisted smile, bloodthirsty.

Her eyes were black, blacker than the night, and they burned like hell.

"I am Death." she said.

Dmitri woke up to the soft touch of Amelia, and he looked up, staring into kind blue eyes.

"Let's go, sleepyhead!"

"AMELIA! YOU'RE NAKED!"

* * *

A/N Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N

I'm back! ^-^ I hope you guys enjoy.

I'm really glad that people like this story. ^-^ I really like writing it! I really hope that you guys like it too!

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

Scrambling back, he threw the covers over his head.

"I don't have any more clothes..." Amelia piped up. He could see her shadow looming over the bed, and Dmitri's face flushed more.

"Use mine! I don't care! Just put some damn clothes on!" He cried out. Her shadow walked over to the opposite side of the room. Dmitri squeezed his eyes shut, blushing, and trying hard to not picture her every movement...

Yeah, all her fat definitely went to her breasts.

No, he didn't just think that.

"Can...I wear your coat, too?" she suddenly asked.

"Yeah, sure, do whatever you want, are you dressed yet?" he asked. Amelia made a sound of affirmation, and Dmitri removed the covers, glancing at her.

Amelia's face was tucked into his fur collar, eyes shut, and she was holding the sleeves to her face. They were way too big, so the furry ends fell down past her chest.

"It's so warm..." she said softly. Dmitri blinked, feeling a blush rise to his chest. He wasn't sure why, but he somehow wondered if she felt that way about him.

"Let's...go." he finally said. Amelia smiled at him, and Dmitri felt his lips twitch.

Why...why did her happiness make him feel so...strange?

Suddenly stopping, Dmitri turned around and looked down at Amelia. She looked up at him, blue eyes wide and curious.

'_I barely know her. I just met her a few days ago...but she knows more about me than even Anya does.'_

She was so small compared to him, the top of her head barely reached his chest.

'_I don't know anything about her. I barely know her. She doesn't even know who she is. She could be a criminal, a psychopath, she could be dangerous and unstable, and I wouldn't know it.'_

Dmitri lowered himself slightly, taking Amelia's chin in his hands. Amelia looked up at him, her blue eyes full of curiosity. Dmitri leaned in closer, staring into her eyes.

'_I barely know her...she barely knows me...but...I don't care. She isn't Anya...but I don't care..'_

Dmitri shut his eyes, tilting her chin up, and gently pressing his lips to hers.

'_I don't like her...not at all...'_

Amelia threw her arms around his neck, kissing back with all her might.

'_Ny...I love her.'_

* * *

(Amelia's POV)

At the same time, three things happened.

The first was that there was a flash of light, blinding, brilliant. She saw so many things in them, she saw the world, she saw the truth. It was so, so close, it was right in front of her, seconds away, so close...

The second was that she felt strange, indescribable power. It surged through her veins, whispering, burning. It was so hot, so intense, like flames licking through her core. She felt torn between screaming and crying, crying with both joy and pain. She felt her legs trembling beneath her as she stood, her lips pressed against Dmitri's. She was too filled with power, she burned, there was too much, way too much...

She couldn't focus on the feeling of him; the feeling of the boy she felt so attached to. Amelia could never describe what she felt for him...she just...felt so happy with him, so so complete..she...needed him. Amelia didn't know what this feeling was, the warmth she felt, and the desire she felt to be close to him. She didn't know anything about how humans felt...about love.

The third was that she suddenly went indescribably cold. Her entire body locked down, and her heart stopped. Her eyes widened, blanking out, blacker than night. As Dmitri kissed her, she went rigid, and two, raven-black wings fell into existence behind her back.

Dmitri pulled away the second he felt her freezing body in his arms. Scrambling back; he stared at her.

Amelia stood there; black eyes, black wings, and a face blank and cold.

Dmitri's heart stopped as she took a step forward.

* * *

A/N Please review!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N

Okay, back! ^^ Sorry for the horribly long wait! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

"Amelia..." the Belarusian whispered. His voice was soft, choked, covered by liquid darkness. The shadows pressed against his open lips, and he couldn't breathe.

Shadows writhed and crawled along the walls, stabbing into the whiteness, shrieking the most ear-piercing scream he had ever heard. It was as if every single voice on the face of the earth was screaming at the same time, voices raised in a chorus of...hell.

The deepest blackness was in her eyes.

It was as if a shadow descended over her entire being, settling within her eyes. There was no light in them, no _life. _Her eyes held nothing but blackness, but they somehow _burned_, burned with the same agony born within the chorus of hell. Her eyes locked upon Dmitri's, and the Belarusian was still, frozen by those eyes. They were endless, deeper than the spaces between stars, and he was entranced by the _age _in them. He could see thousands of years in those eyes, he could see all of eternity itself...

...where was _his _Amelia? His.._.his_ Amelia...he _needed_ her!

"Amelia!" he tried again, his voice breaking mid-syllable. He tried to move, he tried to _scream,_ but he couldn't. All he could do was stare, wide-eyed.

Amelia's footsteps were soft, almost weightless, as she walked across the hallway. Her wings spanned the entire length of the hall, even though they were half-folded, feathery, raven tips brushing the blackened walls. Her expression was cold, unfeeling, holding none of the warmth that Dmitri was accustomed to seeing on Amelia's face.  
She stepped forward, kneeling before him, peering directly into his face.

"N-no..." Dmitri said. This wasn't happening. This was a dream. He was going to wake up, and he was going to be on the plane. Everything was going to go back to normal. He was going to go to a cathedral in Paris, and he was going to graduate, become a successful author, and marry-

_**No...**_

_**Nononononononononononononononono.**_

"_Amelia, stop!" _Dmitri screamed, his voice cracked, raw with emotion.

Amelia stopped, head tilted to the side, spilling her spun gold hair onto one pale shoulder.

A small thread of sky-blue darted through her eyes.

"Amelia...stop...please, please just stop! This isn't you!" Dmitri continued, desperate to bring _his _Amelia back. "This isn't you! I know you, Amelia! I don't care what you really are, I don't care who you really are, I know you!"

The fallen angel's eyes narrowed, and her porcelain face twisted in hatred. She pulled back her thin lips in a snarl, raising up a hand. It looked almost as if she was about to slap him, if he didn't see the shadows pooling in her hand, or the hatred burning in her eyes.

Dmitri suddenly lent forward, cupping her face in his hands, not caring about the coldness he felt as he did so. He shut his eyes, pressing his lips to hers, feeling his heart leap into his throat, and his body tremble.

_Please...stop..._

Amelia went limp in his arms. Dmitri opened his eyes to see Amelia laying limp against his chest. Dmitri took her in his arms, cradling her bridal style.

He stayed like that for a long time; just cradling her against his chest, shaking, and trying not to cry.

* * *

_He was cold.  
_

_The winter was always so harsh, and no matter what he did, it always hurt. No matter how many scarves he put on, no matter how much he put on, it was always so, so cold._

_His cat, Mishka, had wandered away from home, and Dmitri had set out to find it. Even though his older brother had told him to stay home, he was determined to go out and find his only friend. Mishka had been a cat that he had found when he was just a small boy, and he had taken the kitten in, determined to give it a good home. In turn, Mishka always adored him, and Mishka was his best friend in the entire world._

_His only friend. _

_Dmitri stumbled through the snow, shivering, barely able to see. Everything was so white, so blinding, and he felt frozen solid. His cheeks were flaming pink, and tears were frozen to his face, tears that he had produced because of the biting wind. He could barely breathe, much less move. It was so, so cold, and he had no idea where he was. He felt so weak, so cold, and he somehow knew, even at this young age, that if he went to sleep, he would never wake up. _

_Dmitri stumbled and fell, falling waist-deep into a snow drift. The young child's heart sank, and he tried so hard not to cry. It would just dehydrate him, and he would get even colder!  
_

_"Are you okay?" a soft voice asked._

_Dmitri turned around._

_A girl was standing there. She was silvery, almost transparent, and she seemed to glitter in the light. _

_"I'm scared..." Dmitri replied, the words falling out before he could keep them inside. The girl frowned, her large, blue eyes narrowing in concern.  
_

_"What are you doing here, then?" she asked. Dmitri stumbled over until he was standing just in front of her._

_"Mishka, she ran away from home, and I'm trying to find her!" Dmitri exclaimed. The girl nodded, and walked over to him. Dmitri didn't notice that she seemed to glide over the snow._

_"She's already home." the girl replied. "She was looking for you, too. So let's all go home, okay?" _

_"How do you-?"Dmitri started, but he fell silent.  
_

_She was hugging him. _

_It was the best feeling he had ever had. She was so, so warm, and she felt so good to hold. Dmitri couldn't do anything but lean into her as she held him. _

_She was the warmest thing he had ever felt...it was so wonderful...he could feel her strong, steady heartbeat against his ear, and he could feel her small arms around his neck, her tiny hands clasping and just holding him close._

_"We're home." she said, her small voice soft against his ear. Dmitri blinked, opening his eyes._

_The girl smiled at him, her blue eyes glowing with joy. She was telling the truth. Dmitri could see his home, surrounded by snow, with his family out, looking for him._

_Somehow, he didn't wonder how he did it. It just didn't seem as important as his next question._

_"Will I ever see you again?" he asked her. _

_The girl didn't say a word. Instead, she lent forward, pressing her lips against his. It lasted for not even a second, but it was so soft and sweet, just like her._

_Dmitri blushed._

_"W-what was that?" he demanded. The girl laughed._

_"A promise."_

_Dmitri suddenly took her hands, clasping them tight in his. He looked at her intently, his eyes boring into hers._

_"I'll find you again, okay? I'll find you and marry you!" he declared. The girl blushed, smiling and shaking her head._

_"If you want." she replied, biting her lip and blushing._

_"I do!" Dmitri said back, his voice strong with conviction. The girl laughed._

_"Go, your family needs you." she suddenly said. Dmitri blinked, opening his mouth, turning to glance at his house. _

_When he turned back, she was gone._

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

_Fallen angels._

It was ridiculous to consider, of course. Fallen angels? Really? The only more stereotypical thing would be to consider the possibility of falling in love with a vampire.

Still...

He had to look.

She slept, her head in his lap while he tangled his fingers in her hair, looking on his smartphone for references to fallen angels in the Bible. He bit his lip as he thought of the incident when she had touched one. Maybe...maybe that could provide some kind of hint. If only he had remembered what she had said...

"Dmitri...?" Amelia said. Her voice was soft, fragile, almost broken. Dmitri looked down at her, pausing his playing with her hair.

"Yes?" he asked. The sunny blonde looked up at him, her eyes wide with remorse and hints of fear.

"I'm sorry! I-I never meant to hurt you! I'm so, so sorry!" she cried out, sitting up. She shook, tears welling up in her eyes.

A small smile formed on Dmitri's lips, and he shook his head.

"Idiot...don't apologize for things you can't control. Just stop that...I don't...I don't like seeing you cry." he replied.

Amelia looked up at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. Dmitri held her against his chest, fingers tangling in her hair, just shutting his eyes and holding her.

"You really are so stupid, aren't you? Thinking that you need to apologize for that." he finally said. The American girl let out a shaky laugh.

"I have to...I almost hurt you..." she replied, her voice falling into a whisper.

"But you didn't, that's the important thing." he replied sternly. She smiled a little.

"I guess..."

Dmitri fell silent again, lost in thought.

"Have you ever seen a scary movie?" he suddenly asked. Amelia pulled away, blinking in confusion.

"A what...?" she asked.

Dmitri smiled.

"Let's go watch _The Grudge_, it scared the hell out of my older brother."

"I have no idea what you're talking about...but okay!"

* * *

A/N Please review!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N

Back again! It has come to my attention that I have not been doing much of my favorite part of their relationship, the fighting. XD That is definetly my favorite part of Nyo!AmeBela, the fact that they fight all the time. XD So much sexual tension. :3

AAAAAAAAnyway, enough gushing, time to write!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

(Dmitri's POV)

"AMELIA! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled at her, eyebrow twitching and face turning an odd red color.

"What are you talking about?" the blonde asked, tilting her head curiously at the (perceived) overreaction. Her wavy blonde hair spilled onto one fur-collared shoulder, as she blinked her wide, curious blue eyes. She lifted up one sleeve of the coat she was wearing-Dmitri's coat-to brush her bangs out of her face. This, of course, wasn't the problem. He had allowed her to wear his jacket, and he didn't have any problem with it, as long as she didn't mess it up.

No, the _problem _was the fact that, after heading out to the city to do some research for Dmitri's paper, as well as rent a copy of _The Grudge_ for them to watch, the midsummer sun had begun to rise over them. In response, Amelia started to undo Dmitri's jacket, so that only the buttons around her torso were still covered. Now, of course, this still wouldn't be a problem on its own. Amelia had every right to wear his jacket like that if she wanted to. After all, he had given it to her for to do with what she wished.

The _problem _was that, until this point, he hadn't been made aware of the fact that Amelia hadn't been wearing anything _underneath __his jacket. _In fact, the only reason he now knew was because he noticed that she started undoing the top buttons and zipper, exposing her breasts, without any shirt accompanying them. When asked, Amelia had replied, as if there was no problem at all, that she simply wasn't wearing anything under his jacket.

She was naked. Under his jacket. She wasn't wearing anything. Under. HIS. Jacket.

At that point, it took almost twenty minutes for Amelia to snap Dmitri out of what could be considered a brain aneurysm. Or a stroke. Or a waking coma. Something that completely broke someone's brain. The only way that she was able to snap him out of it was by starting to unbutton the bottom of the jacket, effectively exposing her legs. She got about to her knees when Dmitri snapped out of it, thus, bringing them to where they are now.

"WHY ARE YOU UNDOING MY JACKET?" he yelled. Dmitri's face was bright crimson, and he looked to be weirdly almost afraid by her actions. Amelia's eyebrows quirked and she smiled at him with the absolutely most _evil _expression that Dmitri could ever imagine on such an sweet, adorable-looking girl's face.

'_WAITWAITWAITTHATCAMEOUTWRONG-_'

"Because it's hot, is there a problem with that?" Amelia asked, wiggling her eyebrows almost comically. If the situation hadn't been (in his mind) so serious, than he might have laughed.

"YES THERE IS!" Dmitri yelled back at her, his face, if possible, going even redder. In response, Amelia burst into giggles, having to hold her stomach because she was laughing so hard. Dmitri just stood there, red-faced, trying hard to keep his composure.

In his mind, everyone was staring at both him and her. He didn't know why, but he hated the thought of everyone seeing both of them.

"W-why?" Amelia asked through giggles. Dmitri cleared his throat, hiding his face behind his bangs, and folding his arms over his chest, trying (and failing) to look dignified.

"B-Because, you should be more conservative about yourself. I-it's not right for a girl to expose her body to p-people!" Dmitri said, his voice wavering, though he was trying to be stern.

_Systra dressed conservative. She always wore a dress that came down to her ankles, and the sleeves came down to her wrists, while her collar went up her neck. She was always demure and soft, the opposite of Amelia. She was the perfect woman for Dmitri. She was everything he was looking for. He loved Systra, and one day, she would love him. _

"Oh come on, you know you want me, 'Mitri, you know you want this." Amelia teased, throwing another playful wink at him. However, she started to button up the jacket again, until it reached up to her neck. She started to bend down to button down the bottom of his coat, but Dmitri stopped her, wordlessly buttoning it up for her. He kept his eyes averted from her, and made sure to focus on the simple task of buttoning.

_Amelia dressed differently. She didn't care what people thought of her. She simply wore what she felt looked good, despite tradition. She didn't dress slutty, but she wasn't afraid to show off her long, tanned legs, or her curvy sides. She was fiery and energetic, not afraid to say what she was thinking. She was not the perfect woman. She was not what he was looking for. They constantly fought._

Dmitri stood up, brushing himself off. He couldn't help but notice the soft blush dusting her cheeks. Maybe it was because someone had catcalled.

Fucker. Looking at her like that. Dmitri absently made plans to kill whoever did that.

"You're right. I couldn't resist the spellbinding power of your wiggling eyebrows. They seduced me with their bouncy powers." Dmitri deadpanned. His voice was completely flat and serious, and he gave her the most serious face he could make.

Amelia died. Clutching her stomach, she had to lean against a store window to keep from falling over in laughter.

"Fuck you, you're such an asshole!" she said as she laughed. Dmitri couldn't help but feel his lips twitch into a smile.

"Watch your mouth, or you'll be punished." he said calmly.

Well, that shut Amelia up.

It was only after three seconds that he realized exactly what he said.

"I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!"

And so, Amelia died once more.

* * *

_"It didn't work..." a soft voice said. A creature of light, too brilliant for man, knelt before another. Soft wings, feathery white, fell from the smaller's back. He was an angel, a being unseen to man, too divine for mortal eyes. _

_"Of course it didn't. Damned and Holy items won't work on her. She is neither a creature of heaven or hell." the other said. His voice was authoritative, powerful, able to shake the other to the core. The voice was not cruel, but it was not kind. It was pure power. _

_"The human...what of him?" the smaller divine being asked. He bowed his head, blonde hair spilling over his downcast blue eyes. He almost regretted what he had to do. She did not remember. As far as she knew, she was just a human. She was not the traitor, she was just a girl. A child._

_"Kill him, and you will draw her out." the other said. There was no compassion, no dancing around the subject. _

_There was no need for there to be._

_"What if she protects him?" _

_"Then kill them both."_

_"But he does not know what he is doing, he didn't heed the warnings." the other tried. He knew there was no use. Divine justice was not forgiving. But he had to. He had to try. _

_She was just like him._

_"I cannot show mercy...He had determined that they will both die, and He cannot be defied." the archangel said. The other angel bowed his head, accepting his fate._

_"I understand."_

* * *

A/N Please review. ^^


End file.
